Emma Moore, professor in Healing at Hogwarts, has to suppress her feelings for her old best friend and now colleague Severus Snape, who she hasn't seen in ten years, while figuring out who killed her aunt.
...
And it shattered Emma's heart into a thousand tiny pieces.
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"What did he say?"
Emma's smile spread ear to ear. "That he likes the idea."
"Congratulations." Severus smiled back, stirring his morning tea as they sat at the High Table for breakfast. "You've only been here for a few weeks, and you're already changing Hogwarts."
"It'll be my own responsibility." Emma shrugged. "All the work is for me, and it's all on top of teaching. But by making School Counsellor an official title, kids will hopefully come to me easier and teachers can refer them to me."
"Merlin, you truly are a Hufflepuff," he said with mock disdain.
She quirked an eyebrow. "I'm going to go ahead and take that as a compliment."
He grinned. "When do you start in your new role?"
Emma hesitated, spreading strawberry jam over her toast. "Well... That hasn't been decided yet. Dumbledore wants to get the teachers behind the idea first."
Severus frowned, waiting for her to elaborate.
With a sigh, she explained, "He wants me to present the plans during the next weekly meeting. That way all the teachers can ask questions and express any concerns." She put her toast down and turned to him. "That meeting is in three days' time. I have no idea what to say."
Severus laughed, as the owls flew in with the morning post. "Tell them what you told me. You'll be fine, you've got it all worked out."
One owl, a huge, pearl-white snowy owl, landed on the High Table between Severus and Emma, hooting and sticking its paw out to Emma.
"Yes, well, I'm nervous anyway. You'll help me prepare, won't you?" she asked, untying the letter and pouring some water into a bowl for the owl.
"You don't need my help."
"I really do." She turned over the letter. Her face dropped when she recognised the handwriting.
"Fine," said Severus. "As long as nobody finds out I've helped set up a role like School Counsellor."
Her own name stared back at her in blue ink. He'd always preferred blue over black. And the curls of the E – she'd recognise them anywhere.
"Emma?"
She grabbed her wand from her robes and tapped the letter to make it float into the air, right before her eyes.
"Emma, are you alright?"
With a second tap, a silent spell shot through her wand and the parchment enkindled like the wick of a candle. The edges curled over as it burned, and bits of ash fell onto the table. Without taking her eyes off the fire, she said, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. You were saying?"
